


FRACTURED

by Neko_Kururu



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Development, Exhaustion, Eye Trauma, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Kururu/pseuds/Neko_Kururu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux and Kylo Ren are strong in different ways...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Starkiller base was imploding. Tremors ripped through its surface as the thermal oscillator core lost stability and folded into itself, taking everything with it. Retrieving Kylo Ren’s broken body from the collapsing landscape had been nothing short of a miracle, yet there they were, on a shuttle back toward the Finalizer as the ice planet behind them shuddered in its death throes. Ren was barely holding on to consciousness, repeating “it was mine, it was mine, it was mine” under his breath like a twisted mantra. He had lost a lot of blood and his face had been cruelly slashed, yet there was still a fire in his eyes, a burning hatred that fueled him… even though they were glossy and unfocused.

The lightsaber had blinded him.

~*~

They were three days out and Hux was almost at his limit. Morale was down, stress was high, and Hux kept teetering on the edge of losing his mind, though on the surface he looked as impassive as ever. A closer observer however would have noted a tightness in his jaw and slight shaking in his hands; Hux had barely eaten in four days and not slept in three. There was just no time, no time for anything but regrouping and advancing. There were deaths to tally, weapons to account for, survivors to take care of, discouraged officers to keep in line.

Hux let out a shuddering breath, his head feeling light as he paced back and forth on the bridge, hands tight against the small of his back. His lieutenants and bridge staff watched him warily while they worked, sensing his foul mood like a black cloud hovering above them, lightning crackling within, ready to strike without warning.

“Sir?” Came a shy voice.

Hux stopped abruptly and scanned the room for the owner of that voice; his eyes had a hard time focusing but he found them, a petty officer at one of the communication consoles.

“What is it?” He hissed.

He saw the officer flinch at his tone but he carried on, “A shuttle is hailing us... One of ours.”

More survivors. Hux saw relief wash over some faces, while others looked darker still.

“Make contact to confirm.” Hux told him, “Intercept if they are friendlies.”

He made to turn away and return to his pacing but another thought came to him.

“Destroy them if you cannot confirm.”

Hux saw the slight hesitation that passed through the petty officer, a young man barely past his twenties, the whiskers of youth still clinging to his face. Hux was not in the mood to explain his reasons, though after recent events, he should not have to. Traitors were lurking underneath the surface of the First Order, while Rebels were growing more bold. How easy would it be to sneak onto his ship --HIS. SHIP.-- when they were caught in chaos, their forces weakened and diminished.

Distantly, as though through a thick fog, Hux heard the petty officer answer the distress signal and begin to ask questions like number of warm bodies aboard, ranks, and identification codes. His head was pounding, making his vision blur at the edges while nausea began tugging at his stomach. He took a few deep breaths to try and re-center himself but he was fighting an uphill battle.

“G-general! Are you alright?”

Hux looked up, confused, only to find his staff staring at him in a mixture of shock and concern. He realized suddenly that he had stumbled against the side of the console, one hand tightly clenching the edge to keep him from falling over. Something warm was dripping down his mouth and chin; he wiped at it only to find blood on the back of his hand.

“Oh…” He said quietly, staring at his sullied glove.

A woman quickly walked up to him, a few tissues in hand, and cautiously handed them to him. As in a dream, he took them and pressed them to his face, breathing in their antiseptic scent and feeling dizzier still.

“Sir… Do you need an escort to med bay?” The woman asked.

She was young and pretty if not for the sternness to her features. Hux did not remember her name but she came highly recommended, straight out of the Academy. He would not mind having her help him to med bay, her warm body pressed to his...

Just then, Hux became acutely aware of himself and where he was. He abruptly straightened himself up, a jolt of nervous energy flooding his system, poisoning his blood. The woman recoiled, expecting his anger but none came. Hux had passed the threshold long ago, and there was no denying it any longer.

“That won’t be necessary.” He said, his voice almost betraying how tired he felt.

The bleeding had stopped, anyway. Hux looked down at the tissues, a bright scarlet blooming from the middle of the bunch.

“Sir, if I may…” The woman began softly, “Perhaps a visit to the doctor may be… preferable.”

After a moment, Hux nodded. He did not feel like arguing, he just wanted to rest.

“What’s your name?”

She seemed surprised, “I- Evira Sinan-” Her posture suddenly stiffened, her voice gaining volume, “Sub-lieutenant Sinan, sir.”

Hux had only asked to be polite, he did not actually care.

“You have the bridge until I return.” Then he added, “If you need something, find Captain Phasma. I am not to be disturbed.”

Evira saluted him, her eyes shining shamelessly at the opportunity, “Yes sir!”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the main elevator, stuffing the bloody tissues in his coat pocket before pulling it tighter around his shoulders, a shiver passing through him. It had been irresponsible of him to allow such neglect of his self; morale was already so low, it would not do for the General to faint while in command.

Before he even realized it, he had arrived at the medical bay, his feet carrying him there automatically while his mind had been drifting off. He let out a sigh and stepped inside the bay only to hear screaming and the distinct sound of things breaking. His whole body stiffened, adrenalin surging in his veins, making his head pound even harder. This could only mean one thing: Ren had woken up and he was not happy.

He rushed to the room from whence the sounds had originated and found him. Ren was sitting up in bed, his bare chest bandaged up, one hand holding his side while the other was upraised as he Force lifted a nurse a few inches from the ground. His face was bandaged, too, but not just the new scar on his face; his eyes were also covered with gauze.

“ _Enough._ ” Hux barked.

Everyone in the room froze, staring at him in surprise, too preoccupied to have noticed his arrival. Ren merely turned his head toward him, sensing his presence. After a moment, he dropped his hand and in so doing, released the poor nurse who lost balance and fell on her ass, gasping loudly. The other nurse went to her, helping her up.

“G-general Hux, sir, we tried to calm him b-but- Lord Ren, he just lashed out-” The head doctor stuttered, not sure of who he was more terrified, “His eyes were d-damaged by the lightsaber, he needs ointments and--”

“I will deal with him.” Hux said.

Just then, his nose began bleeding again, gushing down his lips and onto the pristine white floor before he could pull out his tissues again. He looked blankly down at the fat red drop between his feet, finding it frankly offensive, before a female voice drew back his attention.

“General, s-sir? Your nose-” One of the nurses said, her voice weak from being manhandled by the Force, “You- you’re bleeding--”

“Nevermind that.” He snapped at her, “Just get out.”

“Sir, you are not well.” Joined the other nurse, “Let us look at--”

“I SAID _GET OUT_!”

Hux’s self-control was slipping dangerously fast, his hands shaking at his sides. The staff all recoiled from him, fear clearly painted on their faces. One by one, they finally rushed out of the room, keeping their eyes to floor as they fled. Hux slammed his fist against the door pad, forcing it closed before slumping against it.

Ren was completely silent, waiting for Hux to speak, but his voice never came. Instead, he heard a wet cough and a clattering noise as Hux gripped a nearby medical cart, trying to regain his balance after a shudder nearly brought him to his knees, blood still dripping from his nose. Hux was almost glad Ren had been blinded; what a sorry sight he must have been just then.

“I just wanted to _rest_ . Just a little sleep.” He began, a growl lurking at the back of his throat, his eyes narrowing on Ren, “I just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet but no. Oooh _no_ , you had to throw a fucking _tantrum_!”

If not for the bandages on his face, Hux would have seen Ren’s eyebrows shoot up. He had never heard Hux speak like that, let alone to him directly.

“Barely awake from your little nap and you’re already causing me grief. Grief that I _do not need_ right now.” Hux continued, oblivious to Ren’s reaction, “I already have plenty of grief-- I had to watch as everything I had worked so hard for crumbled before me, and I-” A shiver passed through him, “I was helpless to prevent it. I c-couldn’t--”

Hux lurched, his body unable to contain his exhaustion any longer. Meanwhile, Ren continued to stare blindly at Hux, having a hard time believing that he was hearing this, hearing how frayed Hux had become while he was out.

“I’ve been robbed.” Ren said, defensive, “I have every right to be angry.”

Hux barked a laugh that startled both of them.

“What, your eyes? Your special place as Snoke’s favourite? Your stupid fucking _pride_?”

Hux pushed himself from the door and marched over to Ren’s bed, a snarl curling his bloodied lips. Ren followed the sound of his footsteps, sensing him come closer and baring his own teeth at him.

“You say you were robbed? What about _me_?” Hux spat, “I haven’t slept in three fucking days, Ren. I haven’t been able to rest, to stop and catch my breath, to drink myself into oblivion. And do you know why Ren?” Hux suddenly grabbed Ren by the neck, shaking him, “DO YOU?”

Ren flared his nostrils but did not speak or jerk his head back; he had never witnessed Hux so furious, had never expected the man to show such raw emotion. To make matters worse, his current blindness put him at a disadvantage, though his affinity with the Force had softened the blow. Regardless, he kept his mouth shut. Hux however took Ren’s silence as a sign of insolence, his hands tightening ever so slightly around his neck, thumbs pressing against his adam’s apple, feeling it bob as Ren swallowed reflexively.

“Starkiller base, does that ring any bells?” His voice beginning to border on hysterical, “You were _there_ , Ren. You _let_ this happen, let some scavenger and those filthy rebels take out my prize. _You_ robbed _me_ , Kylo Ren.”

Hux hissed out the name like an insult and Ren could not help getting riled up at that.

“Wasn’t it you who said the base was impregnable?” Ren snapped back, "You were so damn sure of yourself-”

Hux abruptly shoved Ren down on the bed, climbing on the mattress with one knee to put his weight into his grip around Ren’s neck. As for Ren, he was not about to let Hux overwhelm him; he dug his fingers into Hux’s forearms, trying to push him back.

“You fucking-” Ren hissed, struggling from his injuries, “You were in charge of Starkiller, not me--”

“YOU ALLOWED THEM TO BLOW UP MY BASE.” Hux bellowed, his entire body shaking.

Ren paused and suddenly realized Hux had never faced failure on this scale before --or maybe ever. Just like his precious stormtroopers, he had been groomed and trained his whole life to be the perfect soldier for the First Order, his own ambition and ruthlessness propelling him to power and prestige as General. The whole thing would have made Ren laugh if not for the fact that Hux still had his hands wrapped around his neck.

And yet...

“I’m sorry.” Ren eventually said.

Hux stared at him, his turn to be knocked off balance.

“You _bastard_. Do you really t-think-” He said, his voice cracking, “You seriously think I- You can j-just--”

Hux went quiet.

And then a sob slipped out.

“How _dare_ you…” Hux whispered.

He let go of Ren and sat back on the bed, every part of him nearly vibrating with the crushing weight of his exhaustion. He was falling apart now and there was no way to stop himself as a wave of anguish washed over him, drowning him. Tears fell freely from his eyes, his breath coming in hitched gasps as his mind shattered and crashed around him, hands tightening into the sheets, gripping them as though they were the only anchor he had left in the world.

Ren sat up and in that moment, he felt his heart ache for Hux in ways words could not even begin to describe, his grief reverberating within Ren, almost tangible in its intensity. And familiar --oh so familiar to Ren, whose sorrows had been many and terrible throughout his life but, unlike Hux, he had learned to give in and move on. But Hux… Hux was hilariously akin to a Jedi, someone who had always repressed their emotions for the sake of power, only to be left to face their demons alone once they finally caught up to them.

A shudder passed through Hux, hunching in on himself, pulling at Ren’s heart. Giving in to instinct, Ren reached out and slowly, awkwardly pulled Hux to him. Hux, too consumed by his own emotions, let him do it, a choked sob escaping him as his forehead bumped against Ren’s collarbone. Then, with a gentleness he had not shown since his old life, Ren began rubbing the back of Hux’s neck, then carding his fingers through his hair.

Suddenly there was a flicker in the darkness, a memory from so long ago, of Ren’s mother doing the same to him, her soft voice whispering reassurances into his hair, her fingers lovingly wiping away his tears. Despite himself, Ren felt a pang of longing, his hold on Hux tightening ever so slightly while he hid his face against the side of Hux’s head, breathing in his suffering and fusing it with his own.

Alone in a cold and sterile recovery room, they clung to each other. Two tormented souls brought together by their own griefs and finding solace in each other’s broken embraces. Eventually, Hux passed out against Ren’s chest, having been drained physically, mentally and emotionally. Ren, still weak from his injuries, was not even beginning to consider moving him or finding another bed. Instead, he carefully lowered them both down onto the mattress, shifting until Hux’s weight on him was neither aggravating his wounds nor entirely uncomfortable. He then used Hux’s coat as a blanket, though the man lying atop him was surprisingly warm, his breath ghosting against Ren’s neck in an almost comforting way.

This was far from perfect --if ever there was such a thing for people like them-- but with his thoughts addled by the onset of sleep, Ren felt that for now, it would do.


	2. Return to Routine

Hux woke up slowly, groggy and completely disoriented. His headache was still there but it was not pounding quite as hard as before, feeling more like a dull throb now. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of bacta ointment and something else, something warm and familiar. He buried his face into the pillow, wanting more of it.

It took another few minutes for his brain to register that it was Ren’s scent. Suddenly, he was assaulted by memories of his clash against Ren in the med bay, and then his breakdown, then not much else after that. Hux tensed, rolling onto his back and sitting up with a startled look on his face. He was not sure what he had expected but seeing that Ren’s recovery room was empty caused a strange feeling to bubble up in his chest --maybe it was disappointment, though he could not say why. If anything, he should feel relieved that he was alone; he still felt vulnerable and was not ready to confront anyone just yet, let alone Kylo Ren.

With a long sigh, Hux scrubbed at his face with both hands then brushed back his hair, likely sleep tousled and unbecoming of a General. He could probably do with a long hot shower, too. Hux stretched himself, noting that although his body was a little stiff from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, his aches were gone and he could see clearly again. More importantly, he could  _ think  _ clearly again.

And he had a lot of things to think about.

Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he realized someone had removed his boots --as well as his belt and gloves-- while he slept. He put those items back on quickly, then grabbed his coat and tossed it over his shoulders. His uniform was a rumpled mess and would require some serious ironing to get back to its normal crispness but thankfully he had several others to change into back in his private chamber.

“Oh! You’re awake.” A female voice exclaimed.

Hux could not help startle at that, blaming his reaction on his disorientation. Unfortunately, the woman --the one Ren had manhandled with the Force earlier-- noticed as she came into the room.

“Sorry sir.” She said, a shy smile on her face, “We were worried about you. You were out for nearly fourteen hours.”

He stared at her in shock, “Fourteen  _ hours _ ? And no one thought to  _ wake _ me?”

“Hah, who would have dared? Besides, you needed the rest. You were suffering from severe mental and physical fatigue, likely due to stress, as well as dehydration and hypertension, which caused the nosebleed.” When she saw his blank expression she explained, “Simply put sir, you pushed yourself too hard and your body disapproved.”

Hux let out a small chuckle, not because it was funny but because he could not believe he had let things get so out of control. Damn him.

“Thank you for ensuring I did not get worse, I suppose.” He told her, then after a pause he asked, “What of Kylo Ren?”

The nurse smiled at him, “Well, imagine our shock when Lord Ren stepped out of the room a few hours later and asked for a new bed, only to find you passed out in his.” She shrugged, “He is sleeping right now after another round of tests and bacta applications.”

It took a lot of effort not to allow himself to blush in embarrassment but Hux managed; the last thing he needed was news of his little… incident getting out. Hux could already hear the rumors forming in the mess hall and felt his shoulders begin to tense.

“You don’t need to look so worried, sir.” The nurse told him, apparently reading his mind, “We here abide to a strict patient-doctor confidentiality ethic.”

“Yes... well… Keep me updated on Ren’s progress.” He said quickly. He made to leave but the nurse blocked the door.

“Can’t let you leave without you taking these.” She said, handing him a medication cocktail and a glass of water that a droid, hidden from sight, had been holding.

Hux looked at the pills suspiciously and it must have shown because the nurse tisked at him.

“General, if we wished you harm, we would have let you crash and burn, seeing as you were doing such a good job of it.”

He was about to argue, namely because he had never come across such disrespectful staff, but the nurse merely thrust forward the pills and the glass, almost daring him to refuse them. In the end, he grabbed the cocktail and tossed his head back, then drained the glass before handing the empty containers back to her. He did not like being treated like a petulant child and yet he could not help behaving like one, either.

“Satisfied?” He growled.

The nurse was unfazed, “Those will help you get back on your feet but I would not recommend straining yourself for the next few days. I would, however, recommend a warm meal and some more rest, if possible.”

The meal he could definitely do. Hux was feeling rather starved, what with not eating real food in nearly five days. The rest, however, would prove more elusive.

“Permission to speak frankly, sir?” The nurse asked, her voice suddenly quiet.

Hux raised an eyebrow at her, “Haven’t you been doing just that?” He sighed when he saw her hurt expression, “Granted.”

“Lord Ren is broken.” She said, her voice low and conspiratory, “And I don’t mean physically. No medical practitioner in this galaxy can fix the kind of hurt he is feeling.”

Hux openly stared at her; he had not expected such bluntness, let alone for someone to notice so quickly what it had taken him months to figure it out. She was too sharp for her own good and it made Hux a little uneasy.

“And what is your point?” He asked, his voice harsher than what he had intended.

The woman cowed away, suddenly meek.

“Nothing sir. Just thought you ought to know.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He said, “Are we done?”

“Yes sir.” She bowed her head a little as she moved from the doorway, “Please take care of yourself.”

_ Easier said than done _ , Hux thought to himself.

Within the span of two hours, Hux took the best damn shower he had had in a long time, ate a full meal in the peace of his own quarters, and even managed to get himself back on track with his paperwork --well, more or less, anyway. He was almost starting to relax when someone rang at his door. Hux stiffened, hesitating a moment before answering the door.

“General.”

Captain Phasma’s towering stature filled the entrance; she bowed her head a little in greeting then seemed to look at him expectantly. Hux nodded back a little confusedly then gestured for her to come in, watching as she strode right in like she owned the place.

“I see that you are well.” She said, then with a glance at his paperwork, added, “Well enough to return to your duties, no less.”

Hux bristled at that, “Are you implying something, Captain?”

Phasma looked at him for a moment, then brought her hands up to her helmet, releasing the hidden latches and carefully removing it from her head. Her short blond hair was flattened from the helmet so she ran a hand through it, brushing it out of her piercing blue eyes.

“Hux, you nearly dropped dead on the bridge yesterday.” She said bluntly. 

Her voice was so different without the filter, it always caught Hux by surprise.

“And?”

She shot him a look, “ _ And  _ I’m worried about you.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “Worrying about others is a waste of time, and time is a luxury we cannot afford to waste-”

“ _ Branagan _ .” Phasma snapped, “Don’t you dare give me a speech.”

Hux stared at her, his face growing hot from suddenly hearing his first name --though he could not say if it was from embarrassment or meekness. The only other person that called him that anymore was his mother and he had not seen her in nearly a decade.

“Bran.” Phasma said more gently.

He held her gaze but eventually he let out a long sigh, walking over to his desk and dropping gracelessly into the chair. Phasma walked over, leaning against the desk and putting her helmet down atop his paperwork.

“I hate it when you call me that.” Hux said as he ran his hands over his face

“It’s your  _ name _ .” She reasoned.

“It reminds me of my father...”

Phasma rolled her eyes, having had this conversation too many times to start anew.

“What did the doctors say?”

“Fatigue, stress, dehydration.” Hux shrugged, “I burnt myself out almost as magnificently as Starkiller.”

“ _ Bran _ .” Phasma said warningly, “It wasn’t your damn fault.”

Hux just shrugged again. He suddenly felt tired and arguing with her would only tire him more.

“What  _ is  _ your fault is your current condition.” She continued, “Do you have any idea of the whispers I had to quell after you disappeared from the bridge for an entire day?”

“I can imagine them quite well, actually.” Hux said, thinking of what could have happened if anyone had seen him and Ren together.  _ Sleeping  _ together.

Hux felt his face grow warm at that.

If Phasma noticed, she gave no sign, “You have to pull yourself together and get back to the bridge.”

“I know.”

“You’ve always told me presence and appearances are everything. Now more than ever, you need to show your strength, not your weakness.”

“I know that.” He sighed in annoyance.

“We are already spread so thin, our troops cut short and our officers demoralized.” She went on, “We need you to lead us, to show us that the First Order is still strong-”

“Phasma, I  _ know _ .” Hux snapped, getting frustrated.

She looked at him, studying his tired face, and decided to relent.

“Get some sleep, you look like shit.”

“I  _ feel  _ like shit.” He muttered back.

Phasma shook her head at him before grabbing her helmet and putting it back on.

“I mean it, Hux!” She told him before stepping out of the room.

If Hux could sink any further into his seat, or maybe sink into a hole in the ground altogether, he would. Despite his mood, he dragged himself to bed and promptly passed out.

Phasma had not been wrong. Hux awoke from his nap two hours later feeling more refreshed and energetic than he had felt in a long while. By late afternoon he was standing on the bridge, back straight, eyes sharp, and in full crisp uniform. Better yet, Hux was notified upon arrival that the shuttle which had hailed them before he fell ill had carried home several soldiers who, although injured and as exhausted as he had been, meant a small boost to their onboard forces and a much needed boost to morale. He let his crew believe that if one shuttle could make it out and reach them, then perhaps there were others, too.

Hope was not limited to the Resistance.

**~*~**


End file.
